She’d rather top and tail with me. (Throw an extra blanket over me [thanks for thinking of me kid, but I’m already cooking] and kick the shit out of me all night)
She woke up this morning with a yawn, stretch and smile so she’s fine and told me she had a ‘lovely sleep’ – I thought, good for you hunny, at least one of us did (because I didn’t) as I gave her a kiss and poured her ‘monkey cereal’ (yummy, healthy coco pops)
I’ve resigned myself to the fact that It’s one of those days where everything has to be done with a baby on my hip. Making coffee, sweeping the floor, tidying Ninas assault course etc.
Bobbi is in fear that she’ll physically stop living if I dare to put her down.
I’m in fear that I’ll end up looking like hell boy as she weighs a fair whack these days.
While she slept I sneakily did the unthinkable put her down to cut the grass ?? (it’s now dead. Like totally yellow/brown – but now I won’t feel like there are bugs on me when I’m hanging out the washing and that stinging nettle that was as high as Ninas face is gone ?)
Just call me Magnus Magnusson as this involved moving the swing and the climbing frame and doing something that no wife should EVER have to do – I had to enter (dun dun dun) the shed!
Dan, I’m sorry, I’ve fucked up your super special ‘shed settings’ – I may as well have set fire to it as I’m buggered if I can remember how it was even crammed in there in the first place ?
But also – I’m super ace as I saved you a job so you’re welcome ?
I’m going for a well earned nap now.